All She Wants For Christmas
by AHigherOctave
Summary: There is nothing I hate more than white lights on a pine tree. Two-shot.


**AN: ** A short semi-fluffy two-shot based on my views on Christmas, and it's various decorations.

_All She Wants for Christmas_

Christmastime has always been my happiest time. My mom likes to compare it to the Grinch hearing the little Whos singing despite the fact that the Grinch took all their materialistic holiday goods and his heart growing ten sizes. The rest of the year I might whine or complain about it but its December so I just laugh it off and continue hanging cherry-flavored candy canes on our tree. We have a nice box window that lacks a seat to put it in, so you can see the lights from the road as you pass or from Oliver's window next door as you watch the Charlie Brown Christmas special every year while sipping the hot chocolate and munching on the cookies his mom always makes you. This year Oliver and I have decided that we want Miley to be part of our Christmas ritual, or more aptly felt so guilty for not including her that we decided to go to her house and extend an invitation.

It's almost comical walking down the streets in Malibu this time of year. Oliver and I laugh at all the pine trees we can see decorated, when you'd never see one here any other time of year. They'd die from the heat. There's fake snow on a lot of the lawns, it's never snowed here my whole life. I can't even identify with the description _crisp winter air_ let alone understand the song white Christmas. On top of the white layers, obviously made out of pillow stuffing or flakey laundry detergent, are bright red Santas that wave or inflatable snowman with the occasional light-up reindeer. We both giggle as we reach the end of the Stewarts' street as we ponder what kind of Christmas decorations they'll have up. He has his money on the fact that Miley will have some Hannah Montana shrine dedicated to herself on the front lawn, and a miniature doll of her that sings "All I Want for Christmas Is You" indoors.

I clutch my stomach as he croons a heart wrenchingly bad rendition of it, "I won't even wish for snow," He starts snickering so hard I can only make out "mistletoe" in the next line and I blush through my laughter. He doesn't seem to notice though and I heave a mental sigh in relief. "Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you!" We both strike pop star poses as I join in for the line. I point to him that clichéd, over done way and he clutches both his hands over his heart Backstreet Boys style. What? Even skater girls have their own personal Backstreet Boy, mine was Brian. He was funny, and sweet, and even a little bit of a dork.

I link my arm with Oliver's and we skip down the rest of the street, still singing the song and laughing alternatively. As we touch the edge of the Stewarts' lawn I feel my mouth drop open and I drop my arm from where it was intertwined with his. It's definitely got fake snow, and a thousand other things I think are corny and tasteless. The whole thousand being made up of white lights, and then some more. They're all over the house, hanging from the drain-pipes in the way that's supposed to look like icicles but just makes me want to gag, twirled around the trees tightly so it looks like they're glowing white from inside (trees are supposed to be green!), and there's even the stupid all white reindeer and candy canes I hate so much (they should be brown, and red-striped respectively). "This is horrible!" I shout at the top of my lungs, causing Oliver to jump. He looks at me, and I know he's tempted to laugh but he doesn't. He knows how I feel about this all too well due to Christmas '01. "You are supposed to use red and green for Christmas!" I yell at him, and he shrinks further back. "Red and green, Oliver!" I scream and he jumps again.

"I know, Lilly," He states quietly, moving slightly closer to me. "_Trust me_ I do." He shudders and I smile in spite of myself. "I remember the time you made me buy twelve boxes of colored lights because I said they were kind of pretty."

"And weren't they prettier?" I huff, I know I'm being bitchy and everything but Miley had to choose the _only_ thing I loathe about this time of year to find joy in.

He smiles tenderly, pushing a strand of hair off my forehead, and I feel myself blush again. "Oh course they were Lilly. And you know what made it even better than that?" He smirks that stupid way of his. "You stopped screaming at me after I put them up." And I'd hugged him. I bit my lip. I was supposed to forget that part where he smelled like peppermint.

"Can we not invite Miley after all? I'm sure she's having fun listening to herself sing anyways." I look up at him pleadingly, and he gets this funny look in his eye. He nods though, and we walk back through the brightly colored neighborhoods home.


End file.
